Don't Open Your Eyes
by Cyokie Revott
Summary: In canon, Oz wakes up the morning after his uncle Oscar's death feeling terrible...but I ask you, what if he never woke up at all? More summary info inside.


**Title: Don't Open Your Eyes**

 **Rating: T for depression, attempted suicide, and actual suicide in the first ending.**

 **Summary: Read the summary!**

 **Ships: Oz x Gilbert; one-sided in the first ending (Gilbert's side), mutual in the second ending. Oz x Alice/Alice x Oz, mentioned but not really relevant.**

 **Other: This fic is extremely depressing, especially if you decide to read the first ending. Also, as you've probably guessed by now, I've written two separate endings for this fic. Pick and choose, or just read both. (To be honest, I was originally only going to have the sad ending-the first ending-but I had to write the second ending because I was too sad. XD)**

 **...**

"Oz…?"

Something hadn't seemed right. Indeed, with the death of Oscar Vessalius the moon's light seemed to dim in the midst of black night, but that did not change how disturbing it was to see the bright sun of Oz Vessalius completely go out.

Oz had been through so much in his life, so much struggle and agony, and Gilbert had thought it impossible to break him. After all, this boy had _survived._ He'd survived the death and the rejection and an amount of pain Gilbert himself probably could never handle.

How could he have forgotten? How could he have thought that Oz was above the laws of being? How could he have decided Oz was mystical enough to have no limit? Because no matter how beautiful and ethereal and strong Oz was, he was a human being, and human beings _always_ had a limit.

Oscar had been undeniably dear to Oz, his uncle in reality and his father in heart and soul. Oz had been disowned and pushed aside by his _real_ father countless times, but Oscar had always been there, whether truly or simply in his heart. Oscar had always been there reminding him that he _did_ have a father, that he wasn't worthless or disgusting or undeserving like his birthfather said.

But now, Oscar wasn't there, and for the first time in his life Oz found himself completely lost.

He'd been lost before—many times, in fact—but never this lost, never so lost that he had no idea whether he wanted to wake up tomorrow.

Oz didn't say any of this. But Gilbert knew. Gilbert was closer to Oz than most people could possibly imagine, his best friend and servant, not to mention Gilbert loved Oz in ways he hadn't found words for yet—in ways that most people probably said were wrong. The light had evaporated from Oz's normally shining green eyes, vanished in an instant, and Gilbert knew something was terribly wrong.

As usual, Oz went about like nothing was wrong. It was the middle of the night, and Gilbert reflected on what had happened during dinner.

He thought it might make Oz feel better if they had a picnic outside, gazing upon the stars. He didn't keep Alice away, either. Hiding his distaste, Gilbert allowed Alice to join in without any restrictions whatsoever, hoping Oz would be delighted and think his raven-haired servant and his ambitious friend—and probably girlfriend-to-be—were finally getting along. Gilbert was more than willing to lie for the sake of his master. He always had been.

Setting his jealousy aside, Gilbert watched as Alice blathered on about useless things to Oz, and Oz laughed and smiled like he always did, as if Oscar really hadn't died earlier that day. And maybe nobody else noticed, but from the sidelines, Gilbert paid close attention to Oz's eyes—and saw his worst fear look back at him.

Nothing had changed.

The light that was usually in the blonde's eyes, that hope and awareness that life went on no matter what, was gone. His laughs were drier than they should have been, his smiles were not real, and it seemed nobody but Gilbert could see it.

And yet, Oz hadn't stopped Gilbert to talk. Oz hadn't said a word to Gilbert between the end of the outdoor picnic and going to sleep. It hurt, it really did, despite the fact that the fifteen-year-old hadn't _ever_ wanted to come to his more-than-willing best friend for help.

Gilbert hadn't been able to sleep at all from the moment his body, aching from stress, set itself down on the bed. And so he was immediately able to hear when footsteps penetrated the silence.

At the call of Oz's name the footsteps had quickened significantly, so Gilbert was sure it was Oz. And he found himself worrying, his heart beating ten times its normal speed, as he got out of bed and swung open his door. It smashed into the wall hard enough to wake up anyone else sleeping in Pandora, but miraculously no one did—and if they did, they stayed in their own rooms silently.

The door of Oz's bedroom was closed, and Gilbert wondered if he'd imagined it all. But he hadn't—he knew from the hollow feeling in his chest that he needed to get into Oz's room as soon as possible.

He opened Oz's door forcefully, and he practically fainted from the sight before him, a sight he'd never, ever wish to see.

Oz had staggered backwards when Gilbert charged into the room, but Gilbert knew what he'd seen.

Oz, with some sort of twisted determination mixed with sorrow and hopelessness in his eyes, holding a knife above him, its tip aimed at his chest.

"What the hell!" Gilbert exclaimed loudly, not knowing what else to say. His eyes were surely blazing with concern and anger and everything else going on in his heart and mind at that moment—he'd never been able to hide his emotions, no matter how hard he tried. But Oz simply shushed him, irritation flaming in his eyes.

"You could have stayed in your room." Oz turned away, staring blankly at the wall. "You could have minded your own business."

The flatness in his voice was terrifying.

" _Minded my own business?_ If my master tries to commit suicide, it's my business!" Gilbert growled, fighting back tears as his throat tightened. He could barely breathe.

"No it isn't. This is my body, and I decide what to do with it." Oz began shaking, biting his bottom lip as pain flickered through his eyes. "Wait. This…this body isn't even…" He shook his head weakly. "Never mind…forget what you saw, Gil. It doesn't matter. I don't matter."

Gilbert's eyes widened. He couldn't believe what Oz was saying. "That isn't true! Stop saying things like that! And you want me to _leave?_ I'm not leaving. Not after what I just saw!"

"Don't you get it?" Oz said numbly. "I was right with what I said before. Everyone who tries to protect me dies. It's a pattern. If I die, no one else will get hurt…" His voice trailed off as if that wasn't the end of his sentence.

"Oz, that isn't how it works! The world doesn't work like that!" Gilbert hissed, a ferocity blazing through him that he never knew he had.

"How do _you_ know how the world works, Gil? I've seen it with my own eyes. Someone tries to protect me. They die. And I…" Oz's hands were balled into fists, and he was shuddering. "I'm just left with so much guilt, and now I know it's true, and it's always been my fault. Everyone who died…"

"No. _No._ None of those things were your fault. You're blaming yourself for things that had nothing to do with you." Gilbert put a hand on Oz's shoulder, put it was pushed away instantly. Oz snapped around to face the man.

"Don't touch me. And leave. That's an _order,_ Gil." Now even Oz's voice was shaking. Gilbert wanted to scream, but he didn't—he couldn't.

Oz's words had Gilbert in a headlock, because it was an _order,_ and he was a servant, and a servant was supposed to follow his master's orders, and, and…

 _But there are exceptions, things you can't follow…_

Gilbert always did have trouble denying Oz, didn't he? No matter what ridiculous thing Oz wanted, he always obliged.

 _But I can't oblige this._

"No."

Being refused by Gilbert for the first time, Oz's eyes widened in shock—and then narrowed in anger.

"What? You can't say no to that." Oz snarled. He was shaking so hard now both in body and voice that Gilbert just wanted to embrace him so that he would stop.

"Yes, I can. I may be your servant, Oz, but there are things I won't do." Gilbert stood firmly in his place, gold locking with emerald. "Like leave you alone when I just saw you about to kill yourself."

Oz was tearing up, he could tell, but like every other time he was about to cry, Oz tried valiantly to stop the tears from getting anywhere outside of his eyes.

So far, he was succeeding.

"Look. Gil. I'm not even supposed to be alive." Oz bit his bottom lip so hard that it started to bleed. Gilbert, without thinking, reached out and wiped the blood gently with his sleeve. The adolescent male's eyes flickered with an incomprehensible emotion. "I'm…I'm literally a doll. I'm not even a human being. Why do you care so much about something that isn't even human?"

A tear slipped out.

And that was the last straw.

Gilbert hugged Oz to his body as tightly as he could, burying his nose in the boy's hair and inhaling deeply. He could never let this boy go. He could never leave him when he needed help.

"I love you," Gilbert whispered.

 **First Ending (sad/suicide)**

Oz's eyes widened, and for the slightest amount of time Gilbert thought he saw the light return to those beautiful, beautiful eyes.

But in just as short an amount of time the light disappeared, and Oz's eyes went dark again.

"Thank you…Gil." Oz turned to face the wall again.

Gilbert felt his heart shatter into a million pieces—not because he'd expected Oz to return his feelings, but because he couldn't help his dearest friend, not even from revealing his deepest secret.

And he felt the hopelessness swallow him whole.

"Thank you so much…Gil." Oz gazed at his servant over his shoulder, his eyes flickering with despair and just a hint of that corrupted determination.

"Tell everyone it wasn't their fault, okay?"

It happened fast.

It happened _too_ fast.

It happened so fast that Gilbert couldn't move.

And all at once, Gilbert lost everything.

Gilbert lost his best friend, his master, his beloved, to a puddle of blood seeping out of a self-inflicted knife wound.

The older male—the _alive_ one—fell to his knees.

And this time, he _did_ scream.

 **Second Ending (happy/Oz x Gilbert)**

Oz's eyes widened, and they brightened. They brightened to their original state, and for a few minutes Gilbert simply stared at his perfect master in silence wondering if this wasn't real, if it couldn't possibly be that he'd returned the light to his master's eyes simply from those three words.

But the light didn't waver, and Oz was staring back, flawless as usual.

Well, not _flawless._ But Gilbert loved his flaws.

"I…Maybe I'm misinterpreting this, Gil." Oz shook his head slowly, and although he looked more confused than ever, Gilbert was so relieved to see the hurt vanish from the blonde boy's eyes. "I'm not sure I know what you're saying…but I'm not sure it matters."

And with that, Oz threw his arms around Gilbert, returning the embrace his servant had started as he cried. The tears leaked out of his eyes as he let out little squeals of what could have represented sadness or joy.

 _Why is he crying?_

Worry absorbed Gilbert again, wondering if maybe that light he'd seen in Oz's eyes really _had_ been an illusion, but then he felt Oz's arms around him and the warmth of the teen's breath through his clothing. So he calmed himself down and stroked Oz's back, whispering _shh_ as he dedicated himself to getting Oz through this.

After a good while, the tears and whimpers finally stopped. Gilbert's shirt was soaked, but he didn't care as Oz looked up at him into his eyes, impossibly beautiful.

"I don't know if you're saying what I think you are, but…"

From the way Oz spoke those words, Gilbert knew he understand.

"I am," Gilbert said, so quietly it was almost a murmur. "I've loved you since I met you and I love you now."

Oz simply gazed at him for a little bit, their eyes locked, before his buried his head in his servant's shirt and started crying again.

His voice was so small and muffled Gilbert barely heard it.

"I love Alice, but…I…"

Oz sniffed. Gilbert held him tighter.

"I think I love you too…"


End file.
